Saturday, 28 April 2012

Space Sounds

I've found a new trick to relieve my occasional bouts of insomnia. Whenever the sandman is being a jerk and refusing to come visit me, I put on this recording of Jupiter's moon Io. Something about it is so soothing, it's like a galactic lullaby. I won't attempt explain to you the science behind how NASA was able to capture the sounds of planets and moons (I barely understand it), but I would like to tell you about the myth of Io and share my favourite painting of the subject.

Jupiter and Io, Antonio da Correggio, c. 1530,
 Kunsthistorisches Museum, Vienna


 Correggio and the Loves of Jupiter

(an excerpt from a paper I wrote in 2010)

During the Renaissance, many artists became fascinated by mythological subject matter. The works of Correggio and Titian around 1520 marks what Barkan refers to as an, “Ovidian Renaissance.”[1] These artists, and many more after them, found Ovid’s Metamorphoses to be a rich source of artistic inspiration. The classical work contains many stories pertaining to Greek Gods and their interactions with the mortal world. These stories are often dramatic narratives detailing the romantic dramas of their subjects. The narratives of these Gods are characterized by themes such as love, longing, hatred and jealousy. The overarching idea, however, as the title suggests, is that of metamorphosis. Gods take up various guises, in animal forms or otherwise, or else they turn unlucky people into non-human form, such as Arachne who is transformed into the spider or Daphne who is metamorphosized into the laurel tree. Other stories detail transformations that result from the desperation of love, such as Echo who wastes away to a disembodied voice when Narcissus does not return her amorous attentions. Narcissus, in turn, falls in love with his own reflection and stares at it so long, unable to embrace it, that he transforms into the Narcissus flower. The drama and magical quality of these narratives understandably made them attractive subjects for artists. These themes of attraction and metamorphosis, as we will see, are strongly taken up by Correggio in his Amori di Giove or the Loves of Jupiter, which depict some of the Olympic God’s love affairs.
Correggio can be considered one of the most significant Northern Italian painters of the first half of the 16th Century. The Emilian artist was born Antonio Allegri, but is known as Correggio.[2] Correggio was not a particularly learned man, and did not move in humanist circles.[3] Despite this, he still found artistic inspiration in Antiquity. He was stylistically and technically innovative in his time and the exoticism of his artworks make the pieces seem more 18thC than Renaissance.[4] The popularity of Correggio’s paintings, both during the Renaissance and today, stems from their aesthetic appeal; the soft textures, the subtle expressions, the beautiful, young subjects. The sensuality and delicacy of his works strongly influenced the later rococo artists, and his paintings are seen as the precursor to this stylistic period.[5] The 18thC French artist Boucher was particularly effected by the work of Correggio.[6] In fact, Boucher even painted the same subject of Leda and the Swan.
Although few in number, Correggio’s mythological works are considered the masterpieces of his oeuvre.[7] Mythologies are Correggio’s strong suit because the nature of their subject matter provided a challenge that allowed Correggio’s technical skill to excel.[8] Further to this point, Correggio’s talent is also exemplified in his ability to conceive of these subjects in an essentially unique way. Of his Loves of Jupiter the Jupiter and Io and the Leda and the Swan are especially original in their conception. Correggio not only reinterprets or, one might even say reinvents Ovid’s myths, but he also seems to break away almost entirely from contemporary depictions of these types of subjects.
The Loves of Jupiter consists of four paintings which each depict one of the God’s romantic liaisons, Io, Ganymede, Danae and Leda. The similar dimensions between the Io and Ganymede suggest they are intended as a pair, and likewise for the Leda and Danae.[9] All painted after 1520, these were Correggio’s last mythological works.[10] The series was commissioned by Federico II Gonzaga the 5th Marchese of Mantua and were presented to the emperor Charles V.[11] These works date towards the last four years of Correggio’s life and are some of the most erotic artworks of the Renaissance.[12] This is particularly true of the Io and Jupiter and Leda and the Swan, as both works depict the sexual act itself, while Ganymede and Danae show the moments before the act.[13]
If we look first at Jupiter and Io in relation to the original story in Metamorphoses we can see just how erotic Correggio’s interpretation is. The beautiful Io, daughter of the river god Inachus, catches the attention of Jupiter one day as she is returning from her father’s banks. Although she spurns the advances of Jupiter and runs away, the god, “concealed the land entirely beneath a dense dark mist and seized her and dishonoured her” (830-32). Although the rest of the story continues on, telling of Jupiter’s jealous wife Juno and how Jupiter transforms Io into a heifer in an effort to hide his misdeed, it is the sexual act itself, mentioned in under three lines, that Correggio chooses to depict. Ovid does not describe the rape explicitly, but this vagueness leaves a large amount of leeway for Correggio to creatively imagine how the dramatic scene would unfold. Absent in Correggio’s interpretation of the encounter, however, is any sense of violence.
In Correggio’s painting it is not a scene of rape, but rather that of sexual ecstasy. Jupiter, instead of disguised within the fog, appears to be actually made of the vapor himself. His face appears through the haze to delicately plant a kiss on Io’s mouth, and he snakes a hefty cloudy arm around her waist. The nude Io meanwhile, seated upon crinkled draperies, throws her head back with pleasure and seems to pull Jupiter in closer. She kicks her right leg out in bliss while her arm wraps around Jupiter’s and the expression of her right hand seems to further emphasize her enjoyment.[14] The cloud in Ovid’s story is simply a disguise to hide Jupiter's adultery from the jealous Juno, but here the cloud and Jupiter are one and the same, and the mist itself seems to be the source of Io’s sexual pleasure.[15] The couple is thus shown in a passionate, and clearly consensual embrace. Io’s submission to Jupiter is perhaps a part of male fantasy and the idea of, “blissful surrender.”[16] This is contrary to Ovid’s telling of the story, where Io runs from Jupiter and is taken against her will.
The vertically formatted painting is devoid of excess detail and instead the pair fills most of the composition.[17] The dark cloudy mass that is Jupiter fills the entire upper part of the canvas. The details that are included consist of the head of a deer, which is thinly painted over the rocks beneath Io, drinking the water at her feet.[18] Further emphasizing this theme of water, is the terracotta urn to the right of Io. The urn was an antique symbol for a river source, which is an allusion to Io’s father.[19] The theme of water is also related to the vaporous form of Jupiter’s cloud.[20] Perhaps Correggio’s interest in water relates to the idea of transformation, as water can easily transform into different states just as the God does himself.
 Io herself is painted as a lovely, youthful maiden, with a fancy hairstyle of lush curls and smooth supple skin.[21] Her hairstyle is quite different from other female figures by Correggio, and Gould suggests that this coif may have been influenced by Parmigianino’s work.[22] In the painting, Correggio masterfully renders textures, and her skin seems almost life-like between the cool dark cloud and the bright white of the sheet.[23] His expert use of shading gives life to the work, and is particularly essential to show the face of Jupiter appearing from the mist.
The cloud shrouding Jupiter is meant to hide him from the watchful eyes of his jealous wife Juno. However, the scene of adultery is not hidden from us the viewers. In this sense, we are meant to feel like a fourth participant in the scene. Juno cannot perceive the adulterous sexual act, but we can.[24] This work therefore is not intended for a female viewer to observe, but rather for the eye of the male voyeur.[25] Perhaps it is this voyeurism of a private and furthermore secret act that makes it acceptable for Correggio to depict such an explicit subject. Jupiter and Io are so caught up in their raptures, that they are unaware they have been seen. The viewer, seemingly stumbling across the couple in the woods, functions to foreshadow the later suspicion of Juno when she perceives the conspicuous dark cloud on earth. The viewer, aware of the events of Ovid’s story, would know Io’s pleasure is short lived as she will soon be turned into a heifer and subjected to the jealousy-driven punishments of Jupiter’s neglected wife. In this painting, Correggio certainly pushes the boundary for explicitness, but the delicateness of his rendering, and the more cloudy than bodily form of Jupiter tempers what might otherwise be overt eroticism.


[1] Leonard Barkan, Gods made Flesh (United States of America: Yale University, 1986), 175.
[2] Paul Barolsky, "Ovid's Web." Arion 11, no. 2 (2003): 47.
[3] Barkan, 176.
[4] Cecil Hilton Monk Gould, The Paintings of Correggio (Ithaca, N.Y: Cornell University Press, 1976), 132.
[5] Ekserdjian, David, "Correggio." In Grove Art Online. Oxford Art Online, http://www.oxfordartonline.com/subscriber/article/grove/art/T019595 (accessed April 16, 2010).
[6] Barolsky, "Ovid's Web," 50.
[7] Cecil Hilton Monk Gould, The School of Love and Correggio’s Mythologies (London: Trustees Publ. Dep., Nat. Gallery, 1970), 5.
[8] Gould, Paintings of Correggio, 124.
[9] Gould, School of Love, 5.
[10] Ekserdjian, Correggio, Grove Art.
[11] Ibid.
[12] Gould, Paintings of Correggio, 131.
[13] David Ekserdjian, Correggio (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1997), 288.
[14] Ekserdjian, Correggio, 284.
[15] Barolsky, "Ovid's Web," 47.
[16] Ekserdjian, Correggio 284.
[17] Ibid.
[18] Ekserdjian, Correggio, 286.
[19] Ibid.
[20] Barolsky, "Ovid's Web," 50.
[21] Ekserdjian, Correggio, grove.
[22] Gould, Paintings of Correggio, 133.
[23] Ekserdjian, Correggio, 284.
[24] Barolsky, "Ovid's Web," 48.
[25] Barolsky, "Ovid's Web," 47.

1 comment:

  1. Very interesting, Angela. I've not read this before.

    Linda Wright

    ReplyDelete